


Pie Jesu

by AOO



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Wives No Kids, Brother Feels, Brotherly Love, Family Drama, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:20:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1323007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AOO/pseuds/AOO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calle thinks that Vegard has been working too hard and insists on a guys' night out. But not all goes to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, this is a work of fiction - with fictional characters - none of it has happened - ever.

Bård stuck his head into Vegard’s office. “Let’s go.”

 

“What’s the rush?” Not looking up, Vegard continued looking through some paperwork.

 

“No rush. Sitting around the office would make for a fun evening too. Take your time.” He stood in the doorway, hoping that they could just go.

 

Bård’s sarcasm irritated Vegard. He was still annoyed by the disagreement they’d had earlier and was regretting that he’d ever agreed to go out with Calle and the guys tonight. “Your lack of work ethic is amazing.”

 

“Not that again.” Bård wished that Vegard had really listened to him earlier today.  He stepped into the office and partially closed the door. He really didn’t think everyone in the office needed to hear this.

 

“You’re supposed to be in this with me, but now that we’ve committed to things, you want to back off.” Vegard felt like lashing out at someone, and Bård was a safe target.

 

“God! Why don’t you listen? That’s not at all what I was saying.” Bård couldn’t believe how poorly this was going. He had come into Vegard’s office wanting to cajole him into getting ready to go, not to have another argument.

 

“Do you think everything would get done if we all worked like you?” Now that he’d started, Vegard couldn’t seem to stop his verbal assault.

 

 _Does he really think that I don’t do my share?_ “You’ve been working such long hours that you’ve lost all perspective.”

 

“Somebody has to.”  A pained expression washed over Bård’s face.

 

Calle stood in the doorway listening to the brothers. He had heard their voices from down the hall and couldn’t believe that they were having their second shouting match of the day. “Ok...time out, you two. You both promised me that we’d go out tonight and I’m holding you to it.”

 

“Calle….we said eight o’clock, it’s only seven-forty.” Vegard kept his eyes on his work. He sounded exhausted.

 

“Yeah, Calle. Don’t be ridiculous! We couldn’t possibly leave twenty minutes early.”

 

Vegard slammed his hand on his desk. “Shut up, Bård!”

 

“You shut up!!” The sound of Vegard hitting his desk had made him jump, but he was not willing to back down.

 

“Stop it!! I mean it. You promised me.” Calle looked Vegard in the eyes. The brown eyes that looked back at him were tired and humorless. “We’re going out tonight… all of us… and not with you two at each other’s throats!” He turned to Bård and gave him the evil eye. Calle still didn’t understand what the brothers had really been fighting about, but he was certain that Vegard needed a break.

 

Bård threw his arms in the air in disgust and then seemed to take refuge on the couch, pouting a little. The brothers turned their eyes to Calle in unison, as if on cue. “Wow...I do enjoy having your undivided attention. Now, I don’t care if you two want to yell at each other all day tomorrow, but tonight you’re going to be civil. No... _more_ than civil...now apologise.” He looked significantly at each of them.

 

They were both silent. Vegard turned back to his paperwork and Bård rolled his eyes.

 

“Bard! Now!” Calle spoke in his most threatening tone.

 

Bård looked down and spoke softly. “I’m fine with that...when he’s ready, I’ll listen.”

 

Hearing that, Vegard looked up from his paperwork and, clenching his jaw, he slowly shook his head.

 

Calle thought maybe he could get Vegard, usually the cooler head of the two, to cooperate. “Vegard...would you please?”

 

“Apologise? For what? Taking care of everything?” Vegard was not interested in being the first one to make a move.  

 

“Alright, that’s it!” Calle went over to the couch and grabbed Bård’s arm, and dragged him up off the couch twisting his arm behind his back. He forced him over towards Vegard’s desk. “Ow, ow, ow, ow.” Vegard watched from his desk, thinking vaguely that Calle must really need a night out because he was totally losing it.

 

“Apologise! You know you’ll do it eventually. Why do you have to ruin my evening by holding out?”

 

“Ow...Calle what the fuck is wrong with you? Ow!!”

 

Vegard found himself trying to keep from laughing at the ridiculous scene playing out in front of him . This was definitely one of the weirdest starts to a night out with Bård and Calle that he could remember. Vegard could have told Calle that if he definitely did not want Bård to apologise, he should try to force him to… but then, maybe Calle was picking up on that right about now.

 

“Apologise!” Calle continued twisting Bård’s arm behind his back. Bård had a low pain tolerance, but he made up for that with his stubbornness. “No!”

 

In an effort to stop things before Bård actually got hurt, Vegard intervened. “Alright, Calle. Stop!”  Hearing Vegard’s tone, Calle let go. Vegard recognised a thank you in the glance he received from Bård. “Maybe we could call a truce, just for tonight.”

 

Bård was rubbing his now very sore shoulder. “I suppose. Since Calle promised we could yell at each other all day tomorrow.”  Vegard thought that comment was funny. The same half smile appeared on both of their faces and they began snickering.

 

“I don’t understand you two.” Calle rolled his eyes. “I’m going to drive over to the pub. Maybe you can hug it out or whatever it is you (he put his hands up in air quotes) “Ylvises” do. I expect to see you there, together, within fifteen minutes!”

 

The brothers watched Calle, still looking pretty annoyed, exit the office. They stood in silence for a few seconds.

 

Bård, still massaging his shoulder, quietly remarked, “He’s surprisingly strong.”

 

Vegard snorted a chuckle. “I know, he is wiry. Is your arm ok?”

 

“It’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Vegard followed Bard through the door into the pub. It was the same place Calle had had his birthday party. They saw Calle and a few other friends toward the back of the pub in a corner where there were a couple of upholstered arm chairs and a couch in a circle. Some extra chairs were being dragged over to accommodate the group.

 

After they each grabbed a beer at the bar they walked over to the group that had gathered, most of whom were still standing. Vegard sat down in a chair next to the couch and Bård sat down at the opposite end of the empty couch. Calle eyed Bård and sat in the chair next to him. “So, how are we feeling?”

 

“I don’t know how you’re feeling, Calle. I’m fine.” Honestly, he was a little pissed off at Calle. And his shoulder was sore.

 

“I notice you didn’t sit next to Vegard.” He also noticed that Bård would barely look at him.

 

“Do you want me to sit next to him?” He made no effort to hide how annoyed he was.

 

Calle tried to appeal to his sense of brotherly concern. “I want you to get along with him tonight. I think he’s been pretty stressed lately.”

 

“Yeah, _he’s_ been working hard.” _I guess you don’t think I’ve been pulling my load either._

 

“What is with you? Are you mad at me?" He knew he’d gone a little far earlier, back at the office, but he didn’t think he’d gone far enough to make Bård mad.

 

“Why do you assume that Vegard being stressed out is all my fault?” Before Calle could answer, Bård stood up and moved over to the other end of the couch, next to his brother.

 

“Hey. I almost thought you were trying to avoid me.” Vegard already sounded more relaxed.

 

Bård sighed heavily. “No, but Calle thinks I am, so I thought I’d better move over.” He rubbed his sore shoulder as an indication of why he moved.

 

Vegard reached over and touched Bård’s wrist. “Hey, I just want to say… this is good.” He paused until Bård met his eyes. “I mean us going out tonight… it’s a good idea.” He knew he should apologize, but for now he just wanted to see Bård smile and relax.

 

A smile was tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I guess we needed it.” _Like I’ve been telling you._

 

“I know. We did.” The tension between them was vanishing and Bård was smiling. “I’m glad Calle suggested it.” And just like that the smile was gone. As quickly as Bård had started to relax, he seemed to have tensed back up.

 

Bård didn’t know why he couldn’t just be happy that Vegard was taking a break. He had been trying to get Vegard to slow down for a few weeks without much success. So, he’d been taking more things on, bringing most of it home so that Vegard wouldn’t worry about it. He supposed he was just tired.

 

The change in Bård was obvious, at least to Vegard who could read Bård so well. But before he could figure out what he’d just said wrong, he heard three or four people shout, “Bård!” Some friends who happened to stop in the pub were calling him over to join them.

 

Bård gave them a wave and stood up. “I’m going to go say ‘hi’. I’ll be back.”

 

* * *

 

 

A while later, Vegard noticed that Bård was no longer at his friends’ table. Scanning the room, he spotted him walking back toward their group from the direction of the restrooms. Satisfied, he turned his attention back to Erik who had taken Bård’s seat and was telling a very funny story.  He was acting out the parts of the story including the voice of his own mother, who seemed to be the star of this little tale. He’d never met Erik’s mother but, if she was half as funny as she was in his stories, they should hire her to be on their writing staff.

 

Calle nudged him, handed him a fresh beer and then, with his own refill in hand, went back to his spot at the other end of couch. Vegard took a look at the group of friends that were sitting in the circle and noticed that he was feeling quite relaxed now. This really was what he had needed. They had been working too hard. Bård had tried to tell him that today, but instead of listening he’d gotten mad at Bård and accused him of trying to shirk his responsibilities. Bård’s response had been that he never listens to his advice, but is completely willing to listen when someone else offers up the same thing. He was starting to wonder if that was true. When Calle had suggested that they needed a night out, he had accepted immediately.

 

Erik finished his story, leaving everyone bent over and giggling, and left to get his own refill. That was when Vegard noticed that Bård was still not back with their group. He turned to where he’d last seen him and quickly spotted his brother. Bård hadn’t made it past the bar and appeared to be talking to a fan. They enjoyed talking to fans - probably not so much on a Friday evening when they were out with friends - but they usually tried to spend a little time with them and then politely excuse themselves. He could see that Bård was at the end of the conversation, trying to excuse himself.

 

Vegard turned his attention to Calle who was standing on the couch and telling his own story. Calle really didn’t need any encouragement to be expressive in telling his stories, but it seemed that because Erik’s story had been so funny, Calle had been pushed to a whole new level. He was never one to allow himself to be outdone. Vegard tried to take some mental notes on the story, thinking that they might be able to use it on their show and knowing that Calle often didn’t remember much of anything at the end of their guys’ night expeditions. Eventually, Calle finished the story and the entire group was laughing hysterically. Vegard looked around to see Bård’s reaction. He loved to watch Bård laugh - really belly laugh - at one of Calle’s stories. But Bård still wasn’t back with the group. Looking back toward the bar he saw Bård still talking to the same fan.

 

The fan had been talking about a lot of things over the last ten minutes. In fact, Bård had hardly gotten a word in edgewise, which was part of the reason he was having a hard time freeing himself from the conversation. Now the subject was their Pie Jesu skit. The guy didn’t think that he could have cut Vegard that way or it was the wrong kind of knife or something. Bård wasn’t actually listening anymore. When the guy paused for a second, he tried to excuse himself again only to have the man take hold of his arm and go on talking. There was something a little off about this guy, he just couldn’t take a hint.

 

Vegard caught Bård’s eye to see if he needed help. Bard responded with a half smile and a shrug that Vegard knew meant that he was fine.

 

“Ok. It’s your turn.”

 

Vegard noticed that everyone was looking at him. “Excuse me?”

 

Calle smiled. “You know the story I want you to tell.” Vegard laughed. He did know.

 

He glanced at Bård, wanting to wait until he got back to the group. But he decided to start, realising that Bård had heard it many times before.

 

Finally, Bård had had enough. He interrupted the fan mid-sentence. “I really need to go… it was nice meeting you.”

 

“No! I’m not done.” Their uber-fan’s expression was intense.

 

Bård couldn’t quite believe his reaction considering how much time he’d spent listening to him. _I guess some people are impossible to please._ “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.” Bård started to walk away, trying to politely, but forcefully, twist out of the fan’s grip. As soon as he had broken away the man reached out and took a new and better grip on his right arm. Even though he had already decided that this guy was a little strange, Bård was surprised that the man would actually grab him like that. He tried to twist away again, but the man refused to let go. Without a word the guy pulled out a knife - seemingly from out of nowhere - and he inexplicably slashed Bård’s arm, as if he were re-enacting the way Bård cut Vegard’s arm in the Pie Jesu skit.

 

Vegard heard a wail and immediately looked in Bård’s direction. He jumped up and ran toward Bård followed closely by Calle and the others.

 

Bård was trying to break away but this guy had a vise grip on his arm. He grabbed the hand that held the knife but wasn’t able to stop his attacker from dragging the knife back through the wound in the opposite direction.

 

Before Vegard got to Bård, a bartender had grabbed his assailant and was trying to pull him off of Bård. Vegard grabbed Bård and pulled him away, trying to put himself between the assailant and Bård. When he realized that some people had tackled the man, Vegard turned his attention completely to Bård. “Are you ok?” He had both arms wrapped around Bård. Bård was breathing heavily and had a hand on his forearm. “Bård?” There was a lot of blood. His legs seemed to give out and he started sinking towards the floor with Vegard slowing his descent.

 

Vegard knelt on the floor next to his little brother just hugging him. He could feel Bård shaking in his arms. As he held him and spoke soothingly, he was surprised to realise that he was shaking too. When Bård’s breathing wasn’t quite so ragged, he began to question him. “What happened? Why did he do that?”

 

“I don’t know.” Bård spoke softly. He seemed to be in shock.

 

“Were you arguing with him?”

 

Bård looked up. “No! I didn’t say anything wrong!”

 

Vegard felt terrible, that wasn’t what he had meant. “I… I didn’t mean it was your fault. I just don’t know what happened.”

 

“I don’t ….I don’t know either. All of a sudden there was a knife.”  He just stared at his hand which was trying to hold the cut together, but the cut was long and a lot of blood was seeping out from under his hand.

 

Calle crouched down by the brothers. It was difficult to see which one was more upset, although the blood made it easy to identify which one was hurt. “Here. I’ve got a few clean towels from the bar.” He reached for Bård’s arm and gently touched the hand that was protecting the cut. “Hey, can you let go for a second and we’ll wrap it with this towel?” Bård didn’t respond or react at first. “Bård?”

 

“Bård, Calle’s going to help you.” Vegard had his face very close to his brother’s. Finally, the words seemed to sink in and tentatively he let go. Calle had a few towels and he wiped away some of the blood before wrapping the wound. Bård was watching what Calle was doing and his eyes got really big when he saw size of the gash. He looked like he was about to have a panic attack. Vegard gently turned his face away and held him close so that he couldn’t watch.

 

Erik had gotten a couple of towels wet with warm water and was trying to wash at least some of the blood off of Bård’s left hand. He had originally thought that Bård would be able to wipe his own hand, but when he knelt down next to Bård, he realized that would be difficult to do with one hand. Erik felt a little awkward at first, but he was really fond of Bård, and Vegard looked so incredibly grateful for what was such a small thing that he began to feel more comfortable and took his time with it.

 

“You can look now, I’m done.” Hearing that Bård moved very slightly away from Vegard, only enough to face forward. Calle was pressing on the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. As soon as Erik was done cleaning his hand, Bård said “I…I can do that, Calle.” Calle reluctantly let go as Bård’s hand grabbed his wounded arm. Calle wanted to say something, to comfort him in some way, but Bård seemed to be trying to shut out the rest of the bar by closing his eyes.

 

The police must have been in the vicinity, because they were there in a few minutes. After they had secured the assailant, one of the officers stepped over to speak to Bard. Vegard had an arm protectively around Bård. The shock of what had happened was preventing him from taking any action other than to comfort Bård while they waited for an ambulance. The officer looked down at them. “Vegard?”  He squatted down next to him and looked more closely at the victim. “Bård? I didn’t know it was you.” He placed a hand on Bård’s back and was trying to see the extent of Bård’s injuries.

 

“Espen, right?” Vegard had met Espen a few times. He was a neighbor and friend of Bård’s.

 

Bård looked up. “Espen? Why are you here?”

 

Espen looked over and saw Bård holding a towel to his right forearm. Blood was already beginning to soak through the temporary bandage. He cursed himself for not grabbing a new first aid kit for his squad car since the last one had been depleted from an accident that they had been the first responders to, a few days ago. He asked Bård the same questions that Vegard had just asked and got the same bewildered answers.

 

“I don’t know. I talked to him for a long time. I said I had to go and then…” He couldn’t really find the words for something he still didn’t understand. Bård looked at Espen as if he might have the answer.

 

“That’s ok. Don’t worry about it.” Espen rubbed his back trying to reassure him. “I was just in contact with dispatch. There’s been a huge accident on the freeway and it will be a while before we can get an ambulance over here. We would take you...but obviously we’ve got to take that guy to be booked.” He turned to Vegard. “You might want to drive him yourself.”

  
“That’s a good idea.” It had only been a few minutes but Vegard was already sick of waiting for an ambulance.  Bård was losing a lot of blood. "Come on. How about I drive you to the ER for some stitches?”


	2. Chapter 2

Vegard was saying something to him. “Come on. How about I drive you to the ER for some stitches?”

 

Bård nodded in agreement. He didn't really want to go to the ER, but he was grateful to at least avoid another embarrassing ride in an ambulance. Slowly he got to his feet, very aware of Vegard’s hands steadying him, and started to walk. When he felt himself wobble a little he immediately felt his brother tighten his grip to help him remain upright.

 

It felt very good to step out into the cool night air and away from so many inquisitive eyes. He couldn’t really blame them for watching, if it had happened to someone else he probably would have done the same. But somehow being a “celebrity” (he still had a hard time thinking of himself that way, but was beginning to come to grips with it) made it all the more embarrassing. Would there be something about it in the news tomorrow? He supposed there would be. As they walked to the car, the air was clearing his head and he was feeling a little more normal. Unfortunately, as his head cleared, he was also feeling the pain of his injury more intensely.

 

By the time they got to Vegard's car, the towel that Calle had wrapped his arm in was blood soaked. Vegard unlocked the car and opened the passenger door waiting for Bård to get in. Bård looked from his arm to the light colored interior of the car back to his arm again. "I’ll get blood on the seat."  

 

“Don’t worry about it. Get in.” That was the last thing on Vegard’s mind. Bård protested a little more, but before too long Vegard had gently prodded him into sitting down. He helped him with the seat belt and carefully closed the door for Bård, making sure not to bump his arm. Running around to the other side, Vegard got into the driver's seat. Looking at Bård he realized that he had to be cold, in the confusion his jacket had been forgotten at the pub. He turned around and grabbed a white, zip-up sweater out of his back seat and then held it toward Bård. “Here. Lean forward so I can put this around you.”  

 

Bård stared at the sweater and then to Vegard.  "No."

 

“No?” Vegard wondered if the urge to _not_ stay warm was some unusual symptom of shock.

 

“It's your favorite.”

 

Vegard looked at him like he was crazy. “What are you talking about? It's fine.” He again held the sweater out toward Bård, hoping that he would accept it.

 

“No! Look at me. It’ll get bloody.”

 

“Stop it! It's just a sweater.” _Are you serious?_

 

“You wouldn’t even let me borrow it last week.”

 

                                                                                              

                                                                                                     ♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

                          

                             It was late in the afternoon when they had decided to head over to Karl Johans Street to sing to people as they

                             walked by. After an hour of mixed results they walked over to where they had parked their vehicles to get a

                             different battery for the camera. The battery was acting flaky but, fortunately, Nils always brought a spare

                             battery along. When he opened the back of the van he found that there were a few bottled waters back there too.

                             He started tossing them to whoever wanted one. Vegard suggested that they take a break and walked over to a 

                             bench with Bård following close behind.

 

                             “I don’t get it. We just keep finding people who won’t cooperate.” The sun was getting lower and Vegard noted

                             that the air was quickly cooling off. It was a beautiful day for mid-October, but the days were getting shorter and

                             it was going to be a cool evening.

 

                             “I know. That last guy was so funny, it would have been great, but he wouldn’t sign the release.”

 

                             “Do you think it was because you sang about him being bald?”

 

                             Bård started laughing. “Why? Do you think he didn’t know?”

 

                             “I’d be careful if I were you, Mr. Ever Expanding Forehead.”

 

                             "Ouch!” Bård tried to look hurt but continued to laugh.

 

                             While they finished their waters, Vegard stood up and started walking to his car. Bård followed, telling him about

                             the TV show he had watched late last night. The entire show was about World War II fighter planes. Vegard was

                             listening intently as he pulled his jacket out of the backseat of the car. When he put it on, Bård stopped talking.

 

                             “What?” _Why does he always have to stop at the most interesting parts?_

 

                             “I forgot to bring my jacket.” His brother could turn on a pout and puppy dog eyes in a blink of an eye.

 

                             “I reminded you… twice.” He stood next to the car, adjusting his jacket and pulling the back of his hair free

                             from his collar.

 

                              _Of course you did._ Bård was already beginning to imagine another hour or so, out on the street, without a jacket.

                             The fact that Always-Be-Prepared Vegard would be next to him, warm in his own jacket, was going to make it all

                             the more uncomfortable. As he started rolling down the sleeves of his cotton, button up shirt, he noticed

                             something else in the back seat of Vegard’s car.

 

                            “What’s that?” Bård pointed into the backseat.

 

                            “What?” Vegard knew exactly what his brother was pointing to.

 

                            “You have a sweater back there.”

 

                            “Uhh… yes, I do.”

 

                            “May I use it?”

 

                            “No. I told you to bring a jacket.” _He is never going to start looking out for himself if I always bail him out._

 

                            “Come on. It’s getting cold out here. We’re probably going to keep going for another hour.”

 

                            “Nope. You could have brought your jacket or that grey sweater that’s hanging on the back of your chair in

                            the office.”

 

                            “Well, I don’t see why it matters how many options I had back at the office. I’m cold here.”

 

                            “It’s my favorite sweater, Bård, and it’s white. You’re going to sing about someone’s ugly haircut or funny walk

                            and he’s going to throw his coffee at you and my sweater will be ruined.”

 

                            “And I’ll have second degree burns.”

 

                            Shaking his head, Vegard laughed. “You know what I mean. Now man up and let’s get out there.”

                                                                                                     ♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠♠

 

Vegard felt the air go out of him. It hadn’t been that cold and Bård had been fine. But now, it just seemed so trivial. It upset him that Bård would even halfway seriously consider that the sweater was more important to him than he was. With a hand on Bård’s shoulder, he gently guided him to lean forward. After he had wrapped the sweater around his little brother, he gave him a hug.  He held Bård for a few seconds and then spoke quietly into his hair. “I'm sorry I wouldn’t let you borrow it. That was stupid.”

 

Grateful for the warmth, Bård did his best to position his arm so that he wouldn’t get blood on the sweater. Vegard started the car and accidentally turned on the windshield wipers while flipping the left turn signal, just before entering traffic. When Vegard pulled away from the curb, Bård  immediately noticed that he was driving a little erratically. They took off down the street faster than the speed limit and rounded the corner more quickly than was safe or necessary. “Uh… Vegard… slow down, ok?”

 

“Don’t worry.”

 

They continued down the street at a hurried pace until they were coming up to a stop light. The light turned yellow but Vegard made no effort to slow down. Bård started stepping on his own imaginary passenger-side brake, still confident that his brother would stop. Vegard was a very good driver and, if anything, he normally drove a little too carefully for Bård’s taste. But then the light turned red before they were really very close to the intersection and instead of stopping, Vegard stepped on the gas and flew straight through. “Vegard! What are you doing? Are you trying to get us killed?”

 

“What?” Vegard looked over at him, giving no indication that he was aware of what he’d just done.

 

“Stop the car!”

 

“Why?”

 

“Pull over and stop the car!!” He shouted a little louder than he would have needed to with most people. When Vegard was driving, he assumed he knew what he was doing more than the next guy (because, generally he did) and was not willing to listen to other people very quickly.

 

Vegard reluctantly pulled over and came to a stop. “What’s wrong? Do you need to throw up?”

 

“You just went through a red light!”

 

“I did not!” He looked baffled and a little indignant.

 

 _Fuck! How did we not get hit?_ “Yes, you did!” His heart was pounding and actually now he was feeling a little queasy.

 

“Bård…”

 

“You blew right through it, at least three seconds after it had turned red!”

 

Vegard looked at him for a few seconds, his eyes questioning. Then he glanced in his rearview mirror, gauging how far they were from the stoplights that he could see down the street behind them. He had no memory of any stoplights at all. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m ok, Vegard. You’ve got to slow down, or I’m getting out and walking.” There was a small smile tugging at his lips. He had no intention of getting out of the car and walking another two and a half kilometers.

 

Snorting, Vegard ran his hand through his curly locks and looked in the rearview mirror again. He just ran a red light? He could have killed them both. “I’m sorry, Bård. I guess I’m more shaken up than I realized. I’ll take it slow… that is, unless you’d prefer to walk.” He checked for his brother’s reaction, unsuccessfully hiding a snicker.

 

Bård’s smile was short lived, tempered by his increasingly very real need to spew. Before he could counter with his own clever retort, he became focused on his urgent need to get out of the car. He didn’t take into account, however, the fact that he was still buckled into his seat. Reaching for his door with his uninjured left arm, he fumbling with the door handle and only managed to open the door quickly enough so that 80% of what exited his mouth cleared the car.  Most of what didn’t fall outside of the car was now running down the car door. The rest was on the white sweater. But by then it wasn’t totally a white sweater. When Vegard ran through the red light Bård forgot about trying to keep a distance between his arm and the sweater and it had been soaking up blood for the last few minutes. When Bård thought his stomach had settled down, he turned toward the driver’s seat to see how Vegard was handling the latest developments. “I’m sorry, Vegard.”

 

“Bård, I’m over here.” The moment Bård had started retching, Vegard had jumped out of the car and moved around to his brother’s side. He was concerned that Bård might choke since he was constrained.  

 

Looking back around he saw Vegard next to him, just outside of the car. “I’m sorry. It happened so fast.”

 

“No worries. Do you feel better?”

 

He nodded. “I got some on your sweater.”

 

“No big deal.” Vegard was looking him over, Bård assumed it was to assess whether he was feeling well enough to keep going or not. Standing up, Vegard began to shut the door for Bård. As he did he called out, “Besides, it’s your sweater now.”

 

Vegard jumped into the drivers seat and looked at his brother, smiling. They both started cracking up. “I will drive more carefully, I promise.”

 

Bård glanced at the partly bloody and puky sweater. “You always give me such lovely presents.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The emergency department was busy, but one look at the Ylvis brothers and they were ushered straight back to a small, curtained exam room. _I guess there is an upside to this celebrity thing. Of course I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for being a celebrity_. Bård sat down on the examining table.

 

“Are you ok? You’re awfully quiet. You’re not feeling nauseous again, are you?” Vegard was worrying again. He appreciated it (How could he not? His brother cared about him) but the last thing he wanted was for Vegard to be worrying about more things right now. That was sort of the opposite of what tonight was supposed to be about.

 

“No, I’m ok.”

 

“Do you want to lay down?”

 

“No. I’ll just sit.”

 

“Should I get you some water?”

 

“No.” Bård sighed. “Relax, Vegard. I just want you to keep me company.”

 

Vegard stopped and took a breath. “I know you’re the one that’s hurt, but I guess I’m the one that’s freaking out a little bit this time.”

 

Bård smiled and nodded in agreement. “A little bit.”

 

“It’s just, I heard you yell and I couldn’t stop it. I should have gone over to you sooner, when I saw that he wasn’t letting you leave.”

 

“Vegard. I didn’t know I had a problem until I tried to pull away.” Thinking about everything - the guy grabbing his arm, seeing the knife, the look in the guy’s eyes - sent a chill down his spine. How had everything gone south so quickly? He started to feel a little faint.

 

“Bård. You look pale.”

 

“I need to lay down.” His brother’s hands were holding him, helping him to lay back gently, before he had finished his sentence. He looked up and was comforted to see those warm brown eyes that he loved and trusted so much. Vegard lifted Bård’s legs up onto the table so that he could stretch out and relax. Then he placed his hand on Bård’s left hand which was still holding his wounded arm and stood next to him. His other hand was on Bård’s head, his thumb softly rubbing the bridge of Bård’s nose.  It was so comforting having him there that - thinking back on it later - he could almost have sworn that they had talked, but no words were exchanged. None were necessary. When he felt less dizzy he looked up at Vegard and could see that he was irritated that they were still waiting to be seen. “It’s ok, Vegard. They’re really busy here tonight.”

 

“I know, but they should at least take a look at your arm before they decide to leave you here untreated.”

 

After another five minutes, the doctor entered the examining room, followed by a nurse. Other than when they had been ushered back to the room, this was the first contact they’d had with hospital staff and it was the first time anyone had examined Bård. Before Vegard said anything about that, the doctor started asking questions. Why are you here? How did you get injured? Why would he do that? Was anyone else there?

 

The more questions he asked the more obvious it became that the doctor was not totally convinced by the story. Well, who could really blame him? How often did this sort of thing happen? “So, someone you’d never met before came up to you and cut your arm?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And he had a 18cm kitchen knife.”

 

“Yes… I think it was about that long.”

 

“But this happened in a pub.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And instead of calling an ambulance, your friend drove you here.”

 

“Yes. Well, no. I think someone did call…” Bård started to realize that the doctor was looking at Vegard a bit suspiciously. The doctor thought he was the victim of some kind of domestic violence… or maybe just some kind of horseplay gone terribly wrong.

 

“Nurse, maybe you could take Mr.Ylvisåker’s friend out and have him fill out some paperwork.”

 

“Wait. That’s my brother, I don’t need him to leave. I’m telling you the truth.”

 

“It’s ok, Bård.” Vegard had noticed the doctor’s mistrust pretty quickly. To be honest, what had actually happened to Bård was not the most likely scenario.

 

Vegard looked so calm, didn’t he understand what the doctor was saying? “No, it’s not. He thinks you hurt me.” It upset Bård to think that anyone would think that of Vegard. It was so ridiculous! Heatedly he tried to set the doctor straight. “He’s my brother. He didn’t hurt me, he helped me.”

 

“I don’t mind, Bård. Whatever it takes to get them to start treating you.” Even in the midst of his anger Bård noticed, in a detached way, that now he was the one who was flipping out a bit and Vegard was the calm, cool one.

 

Vegard heard the doctor trying to calm his brother down as he walked down the hall with the nurse. “It’s just a standard line of questioning when someone comes in here. I’m not trying to upset you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Vegard came back into the room Bård was receiving oxygen through a nasal cannula. Vegard thought it was a little annoying that he knew what the device was called, and it was mostly because Bård seemed to end up in the hospital more often than was, in his opinion, reasonable. Of course, Bård was not at all to blame for this situation. The nurse was still in the exam room and told him his brother’s pulse was higher than they’d like and his blood pressure was indicating that he was suffering from a class II hemorrhage. His cut was deep and would require sutures inside the wound as well as those that would be visible on the top of his skin. They had started an IV to compensate for his blood loss, mostly as a precaution.

 

Even though “mostly as a precaution” seemed to be their reason for the oxygen and the IV and the oxygen saturation clip on his finger, the fact was that his little brother was lying there in the emergency room hooked up to monitors, with tubes and needles going into him. Vegard hated seeing Bård in the hospital. He wished they would at least hurry up and close his wound. He said something to that effect, although in a very careful and polite way (much more politely than he was thinking it) and the nurse reminded him that they needed to numb the area before they could stitch him up. She also mentioned that another doctor, an orthopedic surgeon, had been called to check him for any nerve or muscle damage. Vegard hadn’t even thought about that. He hadn’t even considered that there might be some long term damage to his brother’s arm. He stepped over to Bård’s side, a little surprised that he hadn’t said anything yet.

 

“Oh, and we’ve given him a mild sedative to help with the pain and the anxiety he was having.” The nurse was putting another blanket on Bård so, again, Vegard bit his tongue. _You don’t suppose he was anxious because you accused me of hurting him and then sent me out of the room, do you?_ It was not a good strategy to get into an argument with the hospital staff. Especially when they seemed to be mostly taking good care of his brother.

 

“Bård? How are you feeling?”

 

“Vegard? I’m ok. Whatever they’re giving me is making me sleepy.”

 

“Good. Just sleep if you can.”

 

Vegard sat down next to Bård’s bed and tried to get comfortable. This was probably going to take a while. He looked at his phone. There were a bunch of texts from Calle, so he read the other two first.

 

                       Erik                                                      10:19pm

                       How is Bård doing? Let me know if you need anything.

 

                       Peter                                                    10:30pm

                       What’s happening? Calle is kind of freaking out. He’s

                       headed over to the hospital, so keep an eye out for him.

 

And then he looked at the six messages from Calle.

 

                       Calle                                                       9:56pm

                       Text me when you have a chance. I want to know how

                       Bård is doing. 

 

                       Calle                                                     10:11pm

                       Did you get to the hospital ok? Let me know what’s

                       happening.

 

                       Calle                                                     10:23pm

                       Is there anything you need? I can bring it to the hospital.

  

                       Calle                                                      10:24pm

                       I’m coming over to the hospital. I’ll be in the ER waiting

                       room.

 

                       Calle                                                      10:49pm

                       Are you ok? Look at your phone once in a while Ylvisåker!

 

                        Calle                                                      11:09pm

                        Why do you even have a cell phone if you don’t look at it?

 

11:26                                                 Vegard                                           

Hey… sorry. I’m sitting with Bård while they wait                                    

for the local anesthetic to numb his arm. He’s                                        

kind of half awake, so I don’t want to leave                                           

him. I don’t know how long this will take. You                                       

don’t have to wait.                                                                               

 

                       Calle                                                      11:27pm

                       I’m going to wait. Maybe I can help you get him into the

                       house when they finally let you leave. Will you just tell

                       Bård how bad I feel about earlier?

 

11:30                                                  Vegard                                        

Ok. Thanks. I might need some help later.                                         

And, I’ll tell him… but he’s going to be ok.                                        

You can tell him yourself in a while.                                                   

 

“Hey, Bård. Calle’s sorry that he tried to rip your arm off earlier.”

 

Bård smiled a sort of dreamy smile. “He is? Well, he kind of got off the hook didn’t he? Tell him it’s no longer the worst thing someone’s done to me tonight.”

 

Vegard laughed and shook his head. _I really don’t think I should say that._ “Maybe I should just tell him you’re not mad.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. I was mad though.”

 

“I don’t think he meant to hurt you.” Vegard gently rubbed his shoulder.

 

“It’s not so much that, although now the arm he screwed with is my ‘good arm’.”

 

“What then?” He brushed some hair off of Bård’s forehead.

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Why were you mad?”

 

“Mad?”

 

Vegard let out a quiet chuckle. It was too hard to talk to Bård when he was so out of it. He decided to send Calle one more message.

 

11:42                                              Vegard                                           

Relax, Calle. Bård says he’s not mad.                                                  

 

The orthopedic surgeon came in and seemed fairly certain that Bård’s arm would be ok. There wasn’t anything that needed his attention right now, but he said that they would know more as it healed over the next week. He told Vegard to bring him in for an exam in a week. _Great, Bård will love that._ Eventually, after waiting for over an hour, and periodically checking to see if he was numb enough to begin, they told Vegard that some of the local anesthesia was bleeding out of Bård’s arm. They decided to increase the IV sedative and put Bård into a moderately sedated state so that they could proceed with stitching him up. Then they gave him more localized anesthesia shot directly into his arm. The actual stitching up of the wound took longer than Vegard liked to think about. He was sort of glad that they’d had to sedate Bård because although he was somewhat conscious, they assured him that Bård wouldn’t remember any of it.  

 

Too bad they didn’t have any of that medicine for him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no medical training so I hope there isn't anything too outrageously wrong, so as to be a distraction from the story.
> 
> Also - I thought this would only be a two chapter story, but I decided to split this one up. 
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos. I love to know what you think about my writing.


	3. Chapter 3

After Bård’s wound was stitched and bandaged, the nurse told Vegard that they’d have to wait around for another hour or so until Bård came out of sedation. Bård was moved to a small curtained recovery area and as Vegard waited for him to come to, he took in the sight that was his brother: laying motionless, still fairly pale, still hooked up to a monitor. At least they had removed the IV.  Finally, Bård’s eyes opened. He looked a little sleepy, but still more aware than he had been while under sedation.

 

“How do you feel?”

 

“Uh… ok I guess. It’s probably going to hurt more later, though. Huh?”

 

“Yes. I think so.”

 

Bård’s reply was to close his eyes and doze off for a while. Vegard took the opportunity to update Calle on their progress and then sat back and waited for the sedation to wear off. Bård slept on and off for a while. After about forty minutes he piped up, “Did they clear you of all charges? Or are you here with me on bail?”

 

Vegard grinned. Bård was at least somewhat back to himself. “I ended up giving them Espen’s name and after they talked to him they seemed satisfied. Thanks for sticking up for me with the doctor, though.”

 

“Of course. You came to my aid at the pub - it was sort of a reciprocal thing.”

 

“I see. So me rushing to your side to defend you from someone with a knife and you smarting back to a doctor who was insinuating my involvement in your injury are sort of the same?”

 

“Yes.” He was smiling widely, still obviously under the influence of the medication, but also intentionally giving him crap. “I’m glad you see it that way too. I wouldn’t want to wait too long to pay you back. So there we are - back to even.”

 

“Even, huh?” Vegard regarded him skeptically.

 

“You know me Vegard. I don’t like these obligations hanging over my head. The next thing you know it’s Christmas and we’re down to the last piece of lefse and as I reach for it you say ‘Uh uh uh… pub… knife…’ And just like that I’ve lost what is basically my birthright.” There was a twinkle in his eyes and he was obviously waiting for Vegard’s reaction.

 

“The last piece of lefse is your birthright?”

 

“Yes, it is Vegard. I love it.”

 

“Your love for lefse and it being your birthright are two different things.”

 

His expression became very serious, at least as serious as he was able to manage. “Please, Vegard. I’m the middle child. I have so little.”

 

Vegard laughed out loud, way too loud for a hospital, and quickly covered his mouth. He continued his muffled laughter, his eyes watering, and it took him a full minute before he could speak. “That is quite the outrageous claim!”

 

“Well, I’m sure as the oldest, you never noticed the sad island of squalor which was my life. Never living up to the oldest and having the title of youngest ripped away from me at such a tender age.”

 

Vegard was chuckling, imagining the sad violin music that should have accompanied that little speech. “I think they’ve given you too much medication. You’re hallucinating.”

 

“Well, it’s probably good that I could give you a little insight into my world.” Bård said, as if that put an end to it.

 

Vegard shook his head, smiling. “I still don’t see how you think we’re even.”

 

“Aren’t we?” Bård started giggling uncontrollably.

 

“We are so far from even that you can’t see it from here, it’s not even a speck on the horizon.” Bård was enjoying this, so he continued. “If “even” were a place on the map it would probably be in the southern hemisphere, if it were on this planet at all.  In fact, I don’t think you should be able to use the word “even” anymore. You should strike it from your vocabulary.”

 

Bård continued giggling, which had been Vegard’s aim. If he hadn’t been able to protect him, at least he could make him feel better. Bård was struggling to stop laughing, apparently he had some comment to add.  “You mean _even_ if I have a good reason to use it?”

 

The sound of metal curtain rings running over the metal rod startled both of them a bit. “Has the patient come around from the anesthesia?” A new nurse entered the room, clipboard in hand.

 

Vegard bit his tongue, choking back a number of one-liners that would have called into question Bård’s mental state. He didn’t want to confuse the nurse or drag out this night any longer than it already had been.

 

Bård, however, was happy to answer. “Yes. I am feeling quite chipper.”

 

Vegard snorted and then tried to compose himself to a demeanor more befitting of a hospital’s emergency department. The nurse began to go over the discharge instructions. How to take care of the stitches. How often to change the bandage. Signs of infection to be aware of. How often Bård could take the painkillers that had been prescribed. (He was glad that the nurse had given them enough pills for the next couple of days so that they wouldn’t have to stop at the hospital pharmacy before going home.) He listened carefully. Even though Bård was pretty chatty, he wasn’t sure how much he’d remember tomorrow. So, he assumed that he was in charge of Bård’s care, for the next couple of days at least.

 

When they were ready to leave, the nurse directed them down the hall to the ER waiting room. As he walked down the hall with Bård, Vegard felt like he was holding on to a helium balloon as Bård was still a little tipsy from the combination of sedation and pain medications. “We need to find Calle, he’s waiting for us.”

 

“Tell him not to twist this arm behind my back.” Bård thought that was hysterical and started giggling again.

 

Vegard was pretty sure that Calle didn’t need to hear that right now. “Let’s not mention that, ok?”

 

“Why? He can take a joke.”

 

“I think he feels bad about it...and could you keep your voice down? You’re talking kind of loud.”

 

Immediately Bård began to whisper. “Oh! I am? That’s right, this is a library… I mean hospital.”

 

“Can’t get anything past you, can we?” Vegard was shaking his head. Hopefully, Calle was sober by now and would be more of a help than a hindrance.

 

“There he is.” Bård was pointing over toward a corner of the waiting room. He had already forgotten about keeping his voice down.

 

“Shhh… remember? Good job spotting him though.” Vegard noticed that he was actually starting to talk to him like the five-year-old that he seemed to be at the moment.

 

Calle had made a little nest for himself by pulling a second chair over for his feet. His head was leaning against the wall and he was covered under some jackets, fast asleep. Vegard nudged him with his knee. “Hey, rise and shine.”

 

He sat up quickly, attempting to look wide awake. “It’s about time. I almost fell asleep.”

 

“Nice cover.”

 

“How are you doing Bård?” Calle was gathering up the jackets so that he could stand.

 

“I’m fine now, right Vegard?” He asked as if he knew he was a little confused and needed his brother to verify it.

 

“Yes, they said you were fine.”

 

“You both forgot your jackets back at the pub. I thought you might want them.”

 

Vegard smiled. “Thanks.” He watched as Calle held out Bård’s jacket for him. Bård was trying to figure out how to put his injured arm into the sleeve. It was not going well. Vegard stepped in and took the jacket from Calle. “Bård, just put your left arm in and we’ll put the jacket over your right shoulder.” Bård heard what his brother said but was unintentionally working against him. _This would be pretty funny on our show.  Where's a camera when you need one?_ Laughing, Vegard pulled the jacket away, wanting to start fresh. “Just let me help you, ok?” The whole thing was making him giggle.

 

“Ok.” Bård gave him a very sincere smile and went limp in his left arm.

 

“Maybe it _is_ good that you’re here Calle. Would you guide his arm in?” Together they got Bård’s jacket on him and then Vegard let go briefly so that he could quickly slip his own jacket on.

 

“Where’s my new sweater?” Bård was looking around at the empty waiting room seats - forgetting that they’d never sat down there.

 

“New sweater?” Calle raised an eyebrow.

 

Vegard quietly offered, “I’ll explain later.” He turned to Bård and held up a bag.  “It’s in this plastic bag. The nurse double bagged it - thank god - so that it won’t smell up the car.” Then he remembered the full extent of his brother’s mishap. _Oh, crap! The car’s going to smell anyway._

 

“I’m going to hold you to it, you know.” Bård continued talking about the sweater, oblivious to the other commentary going on around him.

 

“Yeah, well, we’ll see if I can get it clean for you. You might not want it.” He apologetically handed the bag to Calle so that he could try to get Bård moving in the right direction. Calle let go of Bård’s arm and humorously held the bag away from himself, at arms length.

 

“I want it. It’s my favorite.” For some reason Bård decided to sit down.

 

 _Ha ha... “It's my favorite”..._  “Nice one, especially for how out of it you are.” Vegard put a hand under Bård’s arm trying to encourage him to stand up again. “Come on… wouldn’t you rather go home?”

 

Bård looked somewhat offended as he stood. “I’m not out of it.”

 

“Ok… good…” Vegard held his brother’s good arm and started guiding him toward the car.

 

The nurse had warned him that Bård might feel queasy from the medication and advised taking it easy on the drive home. When he opened the car door the smell was overpowering, all three of them took a few steps back. The you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look on Calle’s face, and the fact that it was already past 1:30 am, gave Vegard the giggles again. “Try to hold it together, would you, Ylvisåker?” Calle laughed. They decided that the smell would make Bård feel ill, and put him in Calle’s car which he had deliberately parked close to Vegard’s. “Here, take your brother in my car and I’ll follow in yours.” Vegard protested, but Calle insisted on taking the bullet.

 

After helping to guide Bård into the house Calle went home, promising to come back later in the day. Vegard got his brother undressed and into bed. He gave him another pain pill and propped up his arm on a couple of pillows to help keep down the swelling. He was standing next to the bed trying to decide if he’d forgotten something when Bård, who appeared to be almost asleep, sleepily opened his eyes. “Are you going to stay?”

 

Vegard smiled to himself. He was not surprised that Bård would ask that question but he was glad that he’d been asked, because then he wouldn’t have to explain tomorrow why he had stayed. “Yes. I’ll stay.” He got undressed for bed and, looking for sleepwear in Bård’s dresser, he found a pair of flannel sleep pants and an old, red Stonehenge t-shirt. _This was mine… I’m sure of it!_

 

“There’s room here.” Bård patted the bed.

 

His eyes were closed, but Vegard sensed that he was waiting for an answer. “Are you sure? I could sleep on the couch.”

 

“Yes, I’m sure.” This time both blue eyes met his. “Thanks for… well, you know.”

 

“You’re welcome.” Vegard climbed into bed realizing that he had probably just gotten the only thank you that he would receive for coming to his brother’s aid. And, somehow, it was enough.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Later that morning, when Vegard finally woke up, he felt slightly like he was suffocating. When he opened his eyes, he realized that Bård had rolled over and flopped a heavily bandaged arm onto his neck. Rolling his eyes, he carefully picked up the arm and attempted to roll his brother back onto his back. When that didn’t work he edged himself off the bed and out from under the arm and then put a couple of pillows under the arm to keep it elevated.

 

He knew that the first thing his brother would ask about when he did wake up was coffee. Probably before he said ‘good morning’ and definitely before inquiring as to how Vegard had slept. So he went to the kitchen and went about making a pot. Once it was started, he put some water on to boil for some tea and finding yesterday’s newspaper lying on the counter, he sat down at the kitchen table for a few minutes.

 

When the water was ready he got up to make the tea. He found himself smiling when he saw his favorite kind of tea in the cupboard. Bård always kept some on hand for him. With the tea brewing, he came back to the table to finish an article he had been reading in the newspaper. That was when he noticed the papers sitting on the table. Lots of papers. Looking more closely he recognized it as being paperwork from _IKMY_. Some of it he’d kind of forgotten about, the rest was stuff that he had assumed Bård had somehow gotten done during their normal work hours (which were already way too long to be considered “normal”). The paperwork covered at least half of the kitchen table. Snippets of multiple conversations with his brother were floating through his head. Bård had tried to get him to get more rest and when he had refused, apparently Bård had just started taking work home. He had to hand it to his brother, he hated arguing so he had found a method to get his way that totally avoided conflict.

 

He heard a muffled groan coming from the bedroom. He should have woken Bård to take a pain pill a while ago so he filled a glass of water and poured a mug of coffee and headed into Bård’s room with both beverages and the prescription painkillers. When he looked in the room he saw his brother with his eyes closed and a very pained expression.

 

“Do I smell coffee?” he croaked out.

 

“I’ve got it here.” He raised the mug and Bård started to smile, until his efforts to sit up sent pain shooting up his arm. Vegard quickly set everything down and helped him to sit up. “I should have woken you up sooner for these pills.” Bård managed a neutral expression and said, “That’s ok,” but Vegard could see he was in pain. The excess medication from last night had worn off and so had his jovial mood. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he handed Bård his pain pill. Then he fluffed his pillows so that he could sit up and enjoy his coffee. “I could probably get up and come out to the other room.”

 

“Whatever you’d prefer.”

 

“Well, I don’t want to sit in here alone.” Bård was looking at him inquiringly, hoping that he wouldn’t have to ask Vegard to join him.

 

 _I guess I did tell him whatever he preferred_. “Ok. I’ll get my tea and I’ll be right back.” Seeing the  TV controller on the bedside table, he snatched it and set it in his brother’s lap before leaving.

 

When Vegard came back Bård looked frustrated. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I can’t reach the bedside table to put my coffee down and I can’t turn on the TV until I do. It sucks to not be able to use my arm.”

 

If he could have stamped his foot he would have been the perfect picture of pouty, whininess. Vegard wanted to laugh but decided to give him today to be whiny. One day. “Do you want me to hold your coffee or flip the channels for you?” He sat down on the bed next to his brother, trying not to bounce too much and spill his brother’s coffee.

 

“I want…” He paused, obviously still wanting both and annoyed at having to choose.

 

Vegard, about to lose his patience, thought about the paperwork. He set his tea down and put his hands out - one holding the controller and one for Bård’s coffee. “Ok. I’ll be your table for the next few minutes.”

 

Bård looked puzzled but then smiled. Starting to flip through channels, he began to look less annoyed and started chatting with Vegard. “Nice t-shirt. Did you sleep ok?” After a few minutes of scanning the channels and complaining about how much crap was on TV considering all the channels available, Bård landed on Top Gear, a show that was usually entertaining enough for him and nerdy enough for Vegard. Vegard smiled approvingly.

 

“By the way… I suppose I should tell you. New data has come in and we are now even.” He was finally getting comfortable and enjoying his tea.

 

Bård looked at his brother skeptically. “What are you talking about?”

 

“All the work you’ve been bringing home. What’s with that, Bård?”

 

“You wouldn’t listen to me. I was trying to help… but honestly you made it rather difficult.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry.” That seemed to be all either of them wanted to say about the matter. There was no need to explain themselves further. For a while they sat quietly, enjoying the show and each other’s company.

 

Then Bård began talking, picking up the conversation from twenty minutes earlier. “But, I’m not really comfortable with your assessment that we’re even now. Maybe we could just say that “even” is somewhere back in the northern hemisphere.”

 

“You mean like Denmark?” He raised an eyebrow.

 

“Whoa. Back up. I’m thinking more like northern Italy.”

 

Vegard laughed and scrunched his nose. “You don’t want to be even?”

 

“Well, sure. I guess. But I don’t think doing a little paperwork gets me there. Besides, I kind of like you looking out for me. Well… sometimes.” He wasn’t sure if he should have said that out loud. Next thing you know, Vegard was going to take that to the extreme. Quickly, he attempted to turn the conversation away from his overly honest comment. “So, does this mean we’re dropping the all day shouting match that Calle promised us we could have?”

 

“I’m afraid so. Is that alright with you?” Vegard decided to let him get away with changing the subject. It would have been kind of embarrassing to discuss anyway.

 

Bård considered that for a moment. “I don’t know... I already ‘committed to it’. Are you sure you want me to ‘back off’ now?”

 

Vegard slowly turned his head to see his brother smiling at his own comeback. “Ok, I kinda deserved that.”

 

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

 

* * *

 

On Monday morning when Calle arrived, late as usual, Vegard was talking to Bård in his office. They had gotten to work quite late themselves because it had taken Bård so much longer to get ready that morning due to his gimpy arm. Vegard had stopped by to give Bård a ride and maintained that since his brother had already known about his arm, he should have been ready on time. That had led to twenty minutes of silly banter - which left both of them in a good mood.

 

Calle stuck his head into Bård’s office. “May I join you? Or is this a private Ylvis thing?”

 

“Come on in, Calle.”

 

“I hear that I was way off base on Friday, Bård. I’m sorry.”

 

“That’s ok. Forget it. I have some vague recollection of you waiting in the ER waiting room all night. Is that right?”

 

Calle flopped into the chair in front of Bård’s desk, setting a nondescript bag on the floor next to himself. “Yeah, it took a village to get you into your jacket and to the car.”

 

“Wait! You had my sweater didn’t you?” A huge smile spread across Bård’s face. He was going to get that sweater clean no matter what so that he could wear it in front of Vegard.

 

Vegard had a disgusted look on his face. “Oh, no! I forgot about the sweater. That’s got to be… by now… I’m sorry I’m not going anywhere near that thing anymore.

 

“But it’s my sweater.” His pout was only half pretend.

 

“You’re in luck. Here is your sweater, good as new.” Calle handed Bård the bag. In it was the white sweater, looking completely clean.

 

“Calle. Thanks, it looks great!” Bård tried to hold it up to examine it properly, but was unable to do it with one arm. He handed it to Vegard who held it up for him to inspect.

 

“It really does look great Calle. In fact, it looks brand new.” Vegard pointed to a small tag hanging off the left sleeve.

 

“Oh, crap! How many tags do they have to put on these things?” Calle reached over and pulled off the offending tag. “I already took off two others.”

 

“What! Where did you get this?” Bård was laughing, wondering why he’d replace it.

 

“I was with Vegard when he bought it after lunch, a couple months ago.”

 

 _But you didn’t have to get me a new one._ “You couldn’t get it clean?”

 

“Are you kidding me? That thing wasn’t going to come in my house! I threw it away Friday night… at the hospital... before I followed you home.” The brothers looked at each other and laughed. Why had they expected anything else? Calle’s phone buzzed. “Oh, I’ve got to take this.”

 

“Thanks, Calle!” Bård called out to Calle’s back.

 

Already on the phone, Calle acknowledged the thank you with a wave, as he closed the door on his way out.

 

Vegard sat on the edge of Bård’s desk. “So, I was thinking about how we’re not quite even.”

 

“Um hmm.” Bård was looking at the sweater in his lap, wondering what his brother was getting at.

 

“I’m not sure where that leaves us, as far as the last piece of lefse goes.”

 

He looked up at his brother with a comically dramatic expression. “Vegard! You wouldn’t take that from me, would you?”

 

“Well, I’d hate to mess with your birthright …or what ever nonsense you were talking about. Maybe, instead,  you could let me borrow that sweater once in a while.”

 

Bård looked down at the sweater and then back to his brother.  “Of course, Vegard. What kind of a brother would I be if I didn’t do that?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW - just want to thank everyone who has read this. Thanks for the kudos and comments. I love to get your feedback.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I keep torturing Bård.


End file.
